


Reviewing the Situation.

by TayBartlett9000



Category: Oliver Twist - All Media Types
Genre: Conflict, Gen, Oliver 1968, Reflection, Ron Moody's Fagin, Running from the law, Uncertainty, criminal life, mild suggestions of violence, reviewing the situation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 01:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9944318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TayBartlett9000/pseuds/TayBartlett9000
Summary: Fagin has now become aware of Bill Sikes's violent nature and his willingness to use aggression. When Sikes turns up at Fagin's hideout, Sikes tells Fagin that he has killed Nancy and that it is time for them to leave, in the hope that they can escape the law. After running away, Fagin reviews his situation one final time. Can he keep up his life of crime, or will he have to change his ways? From the 1968 version of Oliver.





	

Reviewing the Situation.

By Taylor Bartlett.

 

Fagin sat by the dying embers of the fire, safely secluded in his hideout, farely secure in the knowledge that he was beyond the reach of Bill Sikes and his violence for the moment, or hoped he was in any case.

This pleased him enormously, for his heart was still hammering with the aftershock of Sikes’s words. The verbal threat of his life was still ringing in Fagin’s ears as he sat before the fire.

 Fagin had never witnessed Sikes’s violence for himself, though he had in fact suspected it for some time. He had seen the livid bruises on Nancy’s face, acting as a stark reminder of her boy friend’s aggression. But she had never told anyone of any such violent incidents. Fagin did of course know all too well about Bill Sikes and his notorious reputation throughout London town and he knew that even the law were unable to properly apprehend him. He had never dreamed that Sikes would ever turn on him however. They were after all partners in crime and the pair had been through many an armed robbery and burglary. Neither man could say that they particularly cared for each other, but then again, people who lived by their wits in fear of the law tended to band together whether they liked each other or not. Until tonight, Fagin had believed that Sikes respected their partnership.

 He had been   sorely mistaken. “Bill Sikes takes the law into his own hands,” he had told Fagin in a voice of ice. A shiver ran down Fagin’s spine.

“Oy! Fagie.”

Fagin looked round, suddenly becoming aware that he was not alone in the hideout. Dodger was standing by his benifactor’s side, eyes round with confusion. He had never before seen fear in Fagin’s eyes, and witnessing Sikes’s assault on his master had put the fear of God inside Dodger’s heart. The young boy reached out a tentative hand to nudge Fagin’s arm, hoping to get the man’s attention.

Fagin gave the child a darkly significant look. “He’s a violent man, Dodger,” Fagin said in a low voice, “a very violent man. While he’s here, nobody is safe.”

 After watching the boy’s face carefully, Fagin saw a shadow of fear flickering in Dodger’s eyes. A slight stab of shame penetrated his heart as he remembered that he was supposed to be the protecter. Dodger was supposed to look up to him as something of a father figure and Fagin pulled himself   together in an effort to come across as such.

“Get yourself off to bed Dodger,” Fagin said calmly, “it’s getting late, and you have a hard day’s work ahead.”

Dodger obeyed his master and hurried off to his bed at the far end of the room, leaving Fagin to his own thoughts.

Fagin stood, casting a swift eye over the sleeping boys, making sure that they were all safe for the   moment. Then he stepped away and retired to his own bed, hoping that he would be able to snatch a few precious hours of sleep. He lay down upon his thin mattress and closed his eyes, trying to allow his brain to disengage from life for a while.

Though Fagin closed his eyes, he only had them closed for a few seconds, for a few moments later a commotion outside the door of the hideout brought him back to reality. He stood swiftly and made to cross the room before the door could be opened. Too late. The door thudded against the wall with a crash and a splintering of rotten wood that woke the boys and caused Dodger to leep to his feet, reaching for any weapon that may come to hand.

Fagin had no time to defend himself. Bill Sikes stormed into the room, face sefused with rage and fear. He tore across the room and stood before Fagin. “I need some brass!” he growled, “I need some brass. I’ve got to get away.”

Fagin took an involuntary step back and stared at Bill in horrified disbelief. “What’s wrong, Bill?” he asked in shocked surprise.

Bill’s temper was not to be tested at this moment though. “What did I just say?” he snapped, “I need brass. Money.” He looked around the hideout as if searching for Fagin’s secret stash of money, finding nothing of course.

As Fagin took in the entirety of Sike’s appearance, he noticed a large splash of Scarlett that stained the other man’s coat, and paused for a moment. “There’s blood on your coat,” he said in a low voice, trepidation of an unknown kind entering Fagin’s heart like a knife. Fagin glanced behind Bill and noticed with a sinking heart that Nancy was not trailing behind him as she usually was. “Where’s Nancy?”  Fagin asked, forcing himself to maintain that calm manner.

Bill looked his partner in crime in the eye but offered no response.

“Bill,” Fagin urged.

No answer.

“Bill Sikes,” Fagin warned, voice now full of thunderous gravity, “what did you do? What did you do?”

Sikes glanced away, no longer able to look Fagin in the eye. His breath was coming in short gasps as if the man had been running a marathon. He looked back at Fagin and whispered, “She won’t peach on nobody   now.”

A deafening silence followed this last pronouncement. Fagin felt very much as if a hole had been blasted through the middle of his understanding of the world. The realisation that Bill had killed Nancy was slowly dawning on him, as was the awareness of the dyer situation that Sikes had now put him in.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Fagin told Sikes, staring the thug in the eye. It was at that moment that the full realisation of why Nancy had been killed dawned on him. “She peached?” Fagin gasped, fear washing over him in one wave, “are you sure?”

“Well,  she must have done  mustn’t she,” Bill retorted. “She was handing the boy over to Brownlow on the bridge. He was standing there waiting for her.”

“Then  what did you come here for?” bellowed Fagin, realising that Sikes had  put him and his boys in danger, “get out. Do you hear me?  Get out!”

Sikes refused to move. “I need money!” he yelled back,  desperation almost overcoming him in that moment.

Fagin decided  that if Sikes wanted money, money was what he would get, if it meant that he would leave   himself and his boys alone. “How much?” he asked, counting out shillings into Sikes’s hand, desperate to get the man away from  the hideout. “Ten? Twenty?”

Sikes gave up his vein attempts at being calm and reverted instead to his usual rutine of threatening and bullying. “If the law should come here, asking for me...” Sikes growled in a dangerous voice,   pocketing the money.

Fagin interrupted, anger overtaking him, “they won’t find me here,” he snapped, “ you don’t think I’m going to stand here and wait for them do you?”

Suddenly, both men paused. A sound from a few streets away caught   their attention. Both of them knew that all too  familiar sound. Both Sikes  and Fagin knew that dog very well.

Sikes pailed. “That’s him,” he whispered, “Bull’s Eye.”

Fagin waited for a second before he acted. Sikes never went anywhere without Bull’s Eye. If the dog  was not by his master’s side that meant that he was outside Sikes’s control. If Bull’s Eye was out there and Sikes was inside, that could only mean one thing. Bull’s Eye was leading the police to the door of the hideout, to the place where his master had run.

Fagin realised  this in a single second of startling clarity. He turned towards the boys who were  now standing by their beds, each one lost and puzzled. “Boys!” Fagin yelled as Sikes legged it out of the door, “quick. All of you. We’re changing lodgings.”

In one fluid movement, the boys  ran across the room and poured out of the door of the hideout. They, along with Fagin tore down streets and back alleys, desperate to evade the authorities. None of them paid any attention to the no doubt suspicious  nature of their exit. As Fagin ran down a dark side street, he had time to  conclude that he would never be able to return to the hideout again. Not only that, Fagin realised that he had left all of his valuables and treasures behind. He would never again be able to retrieve   those either. The authorities would get their hands on them and would no doubt  put out a city wide search for the people who had stolen them.

None of that mattered. Fagin had one goal and that was to slip away from the law as quickly and as quietly as he could. Once he had gone  far enough, he could then stop and think of what he would do next.

Fagin ran. And he ran. He lost track of time as he pelted along silent streets and deserted  alleys, glad for the darkness that gave him cover. He had no idea where the boys were. They could be anywhere, all  over the city. He wondered vaguely whether any of them had already been snatched by the law. He hoped not. He hoped that  none of them would peach  on him. He would be hung for sure if he was caught and charged with the crimes that he had committed.  

Fagin turned down another dark and secluded street and felt his aching legs give way. He collapsed onto the pavement and sat there, utterly spent. He put his head in his hands, breathing heavily, and spots of light dancing before his eyes. If the peelers came for him now, there would be nothing Fagin could do about it. He had  no energy left to run. He had no energy left to fight or defend Himself. He just sat there on the dirty ground, pulling his coattighter about him in an effort to   shield himself from the biting cold.

Fagin had no knowledge of the time passing as he sat there on the ground. He knew only bitter cold and dark thoughts that he had no more energy to  suppress.  Memories of the night were chasing themselves round inside Fagin’s head.  Sikes turning up to the hideout with Nancy’s blood all  over his clothing. Sikes  telling Fagin that Nancy had in fact told on them and that Bull’s  Eye  had  led the peelers across to their hideout. It was all too much to take in.

This life was far too dangerous for Fagin  to handle. He was not sure if he could keep up this life of crime any longer without crumbling. The net was well and truely closing in on him and his boys, all brought about by the man whom Fagin had entrusted with his partnership in crime. Now, Fagin was not sure whether he would survive this ordeal, for he would most certainly be hung if he was found.

The night slowly ebbed away as Fagin sat on the cobblestones of the streets of London. He sat there, lost in thought. He was for what felt like the fiftieth time, weighing up the options that he now had open to him.

There  were very few. There was no doubt about that. He had two options in fact. He could either carry on his life   of crime, aware of the fact that the police could catch up with him at any minute. Or he could choose to leave his criminal lifestyle behind him, something that would be difficult to do. Fagin had been battling with his conscious ever since the arrival of  Oliver had stirred everything up. The situation with Oliver  had  shown Fagin just how much danger he was in every single day, and he was not at all sure whether he was  willing or able to  keep it up.

He would have to think it out again.

The cold grey light of day slowly crept across the  horizon as Fagin prepared to stand. It was still a few hours before day break but Fagin could stay in this back  ali no longer. The few hours or so of silent contemplation  had finally provided Fagin with the answer as to what he was going to do with the rest of his life from this moment on. Criminal life was far too dangerous to continue, and Fagin dearly wanted to make something of the remainder  of it. There was a fear that it was too late to change his life, but Fagin  had to at least try. He had nothing left of his old life after all, for he had left his valuable behind. He had nothing left to lose.  

Fagin walked to the entrance of the alleyway, looking out  to check for anybody who may be watching him. It was early morning now and people were already going about their business. Nobody was paying any attention to Fagin though. They kept their eyes  firmly fixed on the road and ignored everything else.

Fagin prepared to move, mentally readying  himself to step out into the world a reformed and radically changed man.

“Oy! Mr!”

Fagin spun round. He knew that voice. He knew that voice only too well. He also knew the face of the small boy who was running towards him at that moment. He was abnormally small for his age, and his cheeky smile  forced a smile onto the face of the chief  pick-pocketor. The boy stood by Fagin’s side, looking up at him with that knowing  expression that Fagin knew so well.

“Morning,” Fagin said in a low voice to the small boy standing next to him, “I hope I will have the honour of your  intimate accuaintance. Though I am sure I’ve seen you before.”

The small boy laughed merrily,  knowing that the man knew only too well who the boy was. “Look  what I’ve brought for you,” he told him, holding up a wallet that was loaded with money. “Got this just for you.”

Fagin took the wallet without thinking. His immediout reaction was to open the wallet and check its contents.  “Beautiful work, Dodger,” Fagin told the boy, pulling out a neatly stitched handkerchief and   nodding his head in approval. “This is a nice one. Very nicely made, but we’ll have to pick the writing out with a needle, won’t we?”

Dodger laughed again,  knowing exactly what Fagin was thinking. The two  seemed to operate with the same mind and the same light  fingered conscience. He also knew that Fagin would never change his ways now that Dodger had found him again. Now that the two were back together, they would once again be partners in crime.

In a single second, Fagin reviewed his situation one final time, and decided that he could not give up his criminal lifestyle. Fagin decided that for all intents and purposes, he was a  badden and a badden he would stay.


End file.
